“Stand by,” Sky said. “Got some movement in the street.”
“You got eyes on?” Swoop said.
“Negative.”
“You need us to come out?”
“Negative.”
Sky surveyed the area below, slowly sweeping from right to left, and then back again. Nothing was immediately apparent. Maybe he’d imagined it. Tired eyes playing tricks. But patience was critical to his line of work, as was meticulous attention to detail. There was something about the corner of one building that kept drawing his eye. A slight bulge, where the outer wall sagged. Only he didn’t remember seeing it sagging before.
“Got eyes,” he said. “South of your position, two buildings down, south-west corner.”
“Can you ID?”
Sky adjusted the optic on his rifle, dialed the zoom in tighter. Even zoomed in, he couldn’t tell what exactly he was looking at. Maybe he was wrong, and it really was just debris. But his gut told him otherwise. A moment later, his eyes confirmed his instincts. The lump shifted and two pin-pricks of blue light peered around the corner of the building.
“Yep, it’s a Weir.”
As he watched, the Weir slinked along the outer wall of the building, moving towards Swoop and Mouse. It was cautious in its movements, moving only a few feet forward before stopping again. The Weir was so still that whenever it turned its eyes away from Sky’s direction, he had to keep blinking to keep it from melting into the background.
“Heading your way, real careful. Might have a read on you. You want me to take it?” Sky asked.
“How many?”
“Just one, as far as I can tell.”
The Weir shifted forward again, halving the distance to Swoop’s building. Sky tracked it, keeping the aimpoint steady on its center of mass. If they’d all been inside the city, safe behind the wall, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal to take the shot. But it was at range, and if he didn’t kill it instantly on the first shot, it was going to get loud. The team was used to running low profile, and they couldn’t afford to draw any more attention than they absolutely had to. Of course, if the Weir in the street had a line on Swoop and Mouse, others might be on the way already.
“It’s closing,” he warned. It moved again, faster this time. Stopped again. It had to know they were in there. Sky flicked his weapon off safe but kept his finger off the trigger. For now.
“How far?”
“Twenty meters from the door.”
The Weir scanned its surroundings again. It looked up, but not high enough. It didn’t spot Sky. There was something unusual about this one; an uncertainty of purpose, a hesitancy in its movement. But their behavior had been growing stranger and stranger of late. Maybe this was just another malfunctioning stray.
“We’re up a floor,” Swoop said.
“It gets inside, I won’t be able to track it.”
The Weir slipped forward again, and paused at the corner of the building. Even as Sky calculated the distance and the wind, something prickled in a corner of his mind. Was this one of the Weir he’d seen the night of their attack on the gate?
“Three meters,” Sky said. “I’m gonna lose it.”
“Alright, take it,” Swoop said. “Don’t miss.”
“Yep.” Sky moved his finger to the trigger, drew in the slack on it so the slightest bit of additional pressure would fire. Just under four hundred meters. Easy. He inhaled smoothly. Exhaled. Held. Waited for the moment between heartbeats.
“Hold that,” Gamble said. “I’m almost to your position.”
Sky allowed himself a breath, let the slack back out of the trigger, but kept his finger in contact and the Weir dead center in his optic. “You sure, Ace? I got the shot.”
“Yeah, I got it, babe. Ten seconds.”
The Weir down below moved to the door, but paused. So strange. Sky dialed in further, magnifying his target. Something about the silhouette. Familiarity out of context.
And then – like lightning from a clear sky – recognition. Gamble flashed into view almost at the same time that Sky called out, “Hold! Hold! It’s the kid! It’s Painter!”
The collision lifted the Weir… Painter – up off the ground, Gamble’s momentum rocketing him skyward and depriving him of any ability to counter her attack. Not a clumsy tackle; this was a relentlessly practiced technique to ensure a sudden and definite kill. Sky’s optic was zoomed in too close to track the outcome, but he didn’t need to see it to know what happened. He went numb. Why hadn’t he realized it sooner? And what was the kid doing outside the wall?
“You sure?” Swoop asked.